


you took my soul and wiped it clean

by viscrael



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Oral Sex, Trans Hinata, Trans Male Character, hinata wears his bfs shirt and kags gets a boner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 12:23:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3692163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viscrael/pseuds/viscrael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What the hell is that?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	you took my soul and wiped it clean

**Author's Note:**

> /throws myself in the TRASH i meant to write fluff and then. this is decidedly nOT fluff im going to hell
> 
> also!!! TW for talk of scars and implied past self harm (its p vague but thats what i had in mind when writing it)

“Hinata.”

Said boy hums in response from his place bent over, rummaging around in the fridge, evidently trying to find something to have for breakfast. Kageyama can’t see his face, but he’s ninety percent sure that the redhead is grinning. He scowls.

“What the _hell_ is that?”

“Hmm?” Hinata stands up from the fridge slower than probably necessary, carton of milk in one hand, box of strawberries in the other. He closes the door with his foot in one swift motion, the fabric around his thighs swishing in a way that is both annoying and amazing, and Kageyama feels his scowl deepen. “What’dya mean?” he asks innocently.

“That’s my shirt.”

“Is it?” He sets his items on the kitchen counter and reaches up on his tip toes to the cupboard in front of him to get a box of cereal, and there’s that sliver of underwear again and the flexing of his calves and _fucking hell_. “I just grabbed what was nearest to me.”

“Bullshit you did,” Kageyama grumbles, and in a moment he’s behind Hinata, pressing him into the counter where he’s stilled in making breakfast, instead turning around to face his boyfriend and press the palms of his hands into the edge of the counter.

There’s that gleam in his eye that says he’s getting exactly what he wants when he says, “What, you get turned on by seeing me in your clothes or something?”

Kageyama scowls, remembers the argument they’d had the other day in which he’d said that he didn’t understand why people in romance movies always wore each other’s clothes after sex. He’d said that it had always seemed pointless and overdone to him, not the least bit attractive.

And yet.

His cheeks feel hot. He looks away, but stays where he is.

“Kageyamaaa,” Hinata singsongs, setting one hand on his cheek and the other on the nape of his neck, gently goading the taller to look at him. He’s still grinning, wide and triumphant. “Just admit it. You _like_ when I wear your clothes.”

“So what if I do?” he feels himself mumbling, still not meeting his boyfriend’s eyes, because even after all this time he doesn’t particularly like admitting he was wrong.

Hinata, thankfully or unthankfully, doesn’t answer; he gets up on his tiptoes like he’d done to reach the cupboard and presses his body to his boyfriend’s and brings their faces close enough for Kageyama to feel his breath on his lips, the anticipation of kissing while never doing so heavy around him. He holds his breath, but Hinata doesn’t get any closer, just stays were he is.

Kageyama closes the distance himself, impatient and already turned on. The redhead laughs into the kiss, his arms wrapping around the other’s neck almost immediately and bringing their bodies flush together. It feels too hot in the room all the sudden, and Kageyama itches to get out of his clothes, like, right now.

They’re kissing like it’s the first time they ever have and it’s sloppy and full of teeth because Kageyama’s too eager, but Hinata’s still laughing and running his hands through his dark hair and tugging a little too hard when he does something right. His laughter ceases when a tongue finds its way in his mouth, and Hinata’s breath hitches when Kageyama pushes closer, pins him to the counter, grinds his hips down, tries to get as much contact as possible, and then he’s mumbling something that Kageyama doesn’t hear while he’s spinning Hinata around and lifting him up to set him on the isle counter.

It was meant to be more attractive than anything, and Kageyama certainly _thought_ it was a better position for making out, but Hinata pulls away from the kiss to snort and his face splits into a grin.

“What?” Kageyama frowns.

The redhead puts a hand over his mouth like he’s trying to stop laughing and shakes his head, but a giggle interrupts him when he says, “Nothing, nothing at all.” Seeing his boyfriend’s unbelieving expression, he explains, “It was just…pfft, I dunno, it was just funny. D’you lock the door?”

“Yeah, last night.”

Hinata hums and, to make up for the interruption, hooks his feet around the back of Kageyama’s legs and pulls him forward to meet him, wrapping his arms back around his neck. “Good.”

“Good,” Kageyama repeats, because he can’t think of much else to say when Hinata’s making that stupid and weirdly attractive face he always makes when he knows he’s about to get laid and running his hands over his shoulders and wrapping his legs around Kageyama’s hips until the two are pressed so close against each other he can feel the other’s heartbeat thump-thump-thumping wildly in his chest.

Kageyama’s mouth feels dry when Hinata finally lean in after what feels like ages.

“’S okay if we stay here?” Hinata asks, muffled because he’s trying to kiss and talk at the same time and it isn’t working too well.

“Yeah—yeah, it’s. Yeah.” The response comes out too quick and too eager, but there’s nothing but fervent kissing after that. Hinata peppers quick little kisses all over his nose, his eyelids, his cheeks, his chin, because for some reason he loves doing that, but Kageyama has sort of accepted it as his prime way of showing affection, and mostly it’s just cute now. This is far from the first time they’ve done anything like this, but it feels new each time anyway.

Hinata leans away, smiles brightly at his boyfriend, and tilts his head back when Kageyama presses open-mouthed kisses to his jaw line, his neck, the dip between his shoulder, sucking on his collarbone and leaving little bruises that he knows he’ll get fussed at later for leaving, especially in such visible places. (“Dammit, there’s no way the whole team won’t see these!”) The response he gets at the moment almost makes him forget about the later chastising, and one high-pitched mewl leaves him itching to get his clothes off.

Sensing his impatience, Hinata tugs him away from his neck and pulls at the hem of his shirt. “Off,” he demands, and Kageyama raises his arms obediently and lets him slip it off his head and throw it somewhere else haphazardly. When Hinata goes to get his own shirt off, though, Kageyama stops him.

“I, uh,” he can’t keep eye contact, “want you to wear it. While we—um. Yeah.”

The laughter that bubbles up in response only serves to make his face redder, if that were possible. “I thought you didn’t see the point in—“

“I changed my mind,” He interrupts, sounding grumpier than he is. “What, am I not allowed to do that?”

Hinata stills his laughing (although he does makes a show of the fact that he thinks it’s absolutely _hilarious_ ), and lets the shirt fall, leaving it on.

“Yeah, okay,” he says, but Kageyama still hears a muffled _Shirt fetish_ between a cough.

“Asshole,” he mumbles under his breath, and Hinata makes a (fake) shocked expression like he cannot believe what he just got accused of, and there’s probably already a retort ready when Kageyama cuts him short with another kiss to his jaw, tugging on his boxer briefs as a reminder of what their main goal is right now.

Hinata wiggles out of his underwear, kicking it off and onto the kitchen floor to be picked up later. He never wears his binder when the two of them are just lying around the house—or when he’s sleeping for that matter—so when Kageyama runs his hands up the smaller’s sides, underneath the shirt, there’s no rough fabric around his ribs restricting his breathing. He takes his time in feeling Hinata’s shoulder blades, the arch of his back, the dimples just a little lower, the curve of his hips and the small indentions on his thighs, scars from years ago that are still palpable and white and all too there.

Hinata has never really talked about them and Kageyama has never really asked, because it was years ago, years and years, before he’d known what to do, before he’d figured out what was wrong—preceding their first meeting, even, way back in middle school. But they’re still there, even now, and they feel all too real when Kageyama smooths his calloused fingers over them like if he’s not gentle it’ll somehow open the cuts up again.

He must have felt the shift in atmosphere, in objective, because Hinata takes Kageyama’s hands from his thighs and presses their palms together. He smiles, less sexy now and more reassuring, and it makes Kageyama smile back before pressing a sweet kiss to the back of his hand where theirs are held together.

“You think too much,” Hinata says, scrunching his nose up in distaste and unwrapping himself from around the other. (He says that sometimes, when Kageyama gets particularly quiet and it’s easy to tell that he’s let his mind wander to old nicknames and old nightmares— _you think too much_ with a face or a joke, something to lighten the mood and get his mind off of whatever it is, Hinata’s own way of showing he cares without ever saying it.) “Go get a condom, and some lube if we still have any.”

Kageyama makes a face in return, unhappy at the sudden lose of contact, but does as he’s told anyway, disappearing into their shared bedroom for only a second before coming up with said items and returning back to his original position. He sets them on the counter next to Hinata and gets a confused look in response.

“I am _not_ about to risk gettin’ pregnant if that’s what—“ Hinata starts to say, but he cuts himself off with a sharp intake of breath when Kageyama gets down on his knees and presses a soft kiss to the crook where his thigh meets his crotch. “Oh,” he says, and Kageyama lets out a small puff of air that might be some sort of laugh. It makes Hinata twitch and subconsciously shift his legs apart a little bit more.

“Yeah, ‘ _oh_ ,’” Kageyama snorts, pulling up Hinata’s ( _his_ ) shirt to keep it out of the way as he leaves open mouthed kisses wherever he can find. He feels his boyfriend shiver in response to one, so he presses more there, poking a tongue out to push flat against him lightly, tentatively. Hinata takes the hem of his shirt from him to hold, so that Kageyama’s hands are free to run over the expanse of his thighs, his stomach, his ribs, and lets out this small little happy sigh, muscles relaxing.

“You should do this more often,” he says, and Kageyama hears the grin in his voice. “Ow! What was that for?” He frowns and rubs the spot on his stomach where he was pinched. “Rude,” he mumbles, pouting, and Kageyama only presses more insistently into him as a response, finally finding a rhythm, and his expression lifts into a more unperturbed one. He sighs, his hands threading into Kageyama’s dark hair, massaging his head gently, already having forgotten about his momentary displeasure.

Kageyama wants to watch Hinata while he does this, wants to see the crease in his eyebrows, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the open mouth and eyes clenching shut, but he can’t from where he is, because the angle he’s at doesn’t let him, and he thinks half bitterly that he _could_ do that if only they’d taken the time to do this in their bedroom, but Hinata’s legs clench suddenly and he has to purposefully spread his thighs apart further again.

Kageyama knows that as a sign that he did something pretty well, so he guesses he can’t complain at this point.

It doesn’t take a long time before Hinata’s breathing has picked up considerably, his hands clenched in Kageyama’s hair where they’ve stilled in their massaging, and he lets out a loud moan that sends heat straight down and his legs shake before he goes limp again, panting heavily.He’s slumped over, hands still on Kageyama’s hair, and once he realizes he’s holding too hard to be pleasurable, he lets go with a small apology.

“I hope the neighbors didn’t hear that,” he comments, still breathing heavily, and then Kageyama’s laughing harder than he has in a while because that is just _such_ a Hinata thing to say after having just received oral, and after a moment of blinking in surprise, Hinata laughs a little with him too.

When he’s calmed down and has caught his breath, Kageyama stands up, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and leans his forehead against his boyfriend’s, pressing one palm into the surface of the counter, the other going to the back of Hinata's neck.

“Stupid,” Kageyama mumbles, but his voice is heavy with love, and he knows Hinata can tell.

“I love you too.” Hinata smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_( ᐛ )_/¯


End file.
